


G. I. Go Away

by softjohn



Category: DC Cinematic Universe, Suicide Squad (2016), Suicide Squad (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angry Gay Dads, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, No Angst, One Shot, and the dorkiest dork, deadshot is a little shit, maths nerd, rick flag is exasperated, rick had an extreme g. i. joe obsession phase, the unit circle is the bane of rick's existence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 14:36:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10192118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softjohn/pseuds/softjohn
Summary: “Never woulda pegged you to be a Fuze man, Flag,” Lawton drawled, appearing around the side of the bookshelf. He was tall, lean, and unfortunately attractive in a dark red shirt and a leather jacket, but any interest Rick might’ve felt when Lawton had joined DC State High two years ago had been very quickly erased by his insufferable personality. He had the attention span of a gerbil and enjoyed flicking spitballs at the teacher with uncanny accuracy. This inevitably held up the class, wasting valuable learning time.In other words, he was an idiot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally from a prompt meme on tumblr [here](http://moosesormeese.tumblr.com/post/158185934997/send-me-a-number-and-a-paring-and-ill-write-a)

“I forgot you used to like this stuff!”

Rick looked up at his friend’s exclamation, only to be met with June smiling innocently and holding up a slip of paper she’d found God only knows where. More important than the paper itself was the clumsy drawing which six-year-old-Rick had considered an absolute masterpiece - and now, eleven years later, was just….embarrassing.

“Oh, yeah,” Rick said unenthusiastically. His smile probably looked like he had toothache. Well, he’d never really been that great at acting; especially not when faced with evidence of his passionate G. I. Joe phase. Usually it wouldn’t have been the most embarrassing thing to be obsessed with, but the fact that he’d literally _believed_ that one day he’d be part of the fictional team, going so far as to draw himself in various situations and attempting to change his name, went past the conventional bounds of embarrassing.

June was still holding up the paper, in full view of anyone who may happen to walk by their table hidden among the bookshelves. Assessments were approaching, and the school library was packed - although, most people walked around in a coma-like state, so Rick was probably safe.

So long as June let it go.

“You were so cute,” she said fondly, looking at the lurid green marker scrawl. Rick tried to pass his wince off as another smile. June liked to believe the best in everyone, that everyone had something great about them, and that everyone should be proud of every part of themselves. Rick didn’t really want to burst her bubble. “Remember how you managed to shave your head? Your mum went ballistic. And you dyed all of your shirts green.”

“Good times,” Rick mumbled. He looked down and tried to scribble some quadratic formula, but apparently June wasn’t done.

“Oh! And remember-” she laughed, and despite his burgeoning discomfort Rick didn’t forget to appreciate how _nice_ she was - “remember you tried to change your name? What was it to?”

Christ, Rick thought. _Please don’t let her remember._ He rubbed at his temple with a finger. Anything but the name. Anything but-

“Short-Fuze! With a ‘Z’!”

The tiny groan which tore itself from Rick’s throat didn’t quite mask the sound of a quiet snigger. Abruptly he sat up straight, scowling into the bookshelves. An unfortunately familiar pair of wicked brown eyes glittered back at him from above a row of thick Art textbooks.

“The hell, Lawton?” Rick snapped. The embarrassment had now, thankfully, turned to irritation. As it usually did around Floyd Lawton, pain in Rick’s School Captain ass, scourge of the Legal Studies classroom. 

“Never woulda pegged you to be a Fuze man, Flag,” Lawton drawled, appearing around the side of the bookshelf. He was tall, lean, and unfortunately attractive in a dark red shirt and a leather jacket, but any interest Rick might’ve felt when Lawton had joined DC State High two years ago had been very quickly erased by his insufferable personality. He had the attention span of a gerbil and enjoyed flicking spitballs at the teacher with uncanny accuracy. This inevitably held up the class, wasting valuable learning time. 

In other words, he was an idiot.

Rick merely glared at him frostily and hoped he’d leave. For a shining moment it seemed like he would - but then he clocked June, and leaned against the back of her sofa with a bright grin.

“’Ey, dollface,” Lawton said. June adjusted her glasses and gave him a polite smile, before turning it on Rick and giving him a surprisingly ungraceful  _‘what-the-ever-loving-fuck’_ look.

“Go chase your tail or something, we’re actually trying to do work here,” Rick replied coldly. “We can’t all skive off and waste our talents.”

“You think I’m talented?” Lawton asked in a mock-flattered tone, putting a hand to his chest. “Aw, bro, I knew you loved me really.”

Deciding not to dignify that with a response, Rick bent over his maths book. The Unit Circle - aka the bane of his existence - was giving him trouble, and it wasn’t too difficult to transfer his ire to a new subject. So involved was he in cursing square roots, the number three, trigonometry, and anything circular in general that he didn’t notice the presence behind him until Lawton was leaning over his shoulder.

“Gah,” Rick choked - blessedly quietly, but he was still expecting Lawton to snigger at him, at the very least. Instead he merely pointed at the hell circle with one long finger.

“That’s wrong, dude,” he said. “Sin sixty is root three over two, not root three over four.”

Rick stared blankly at the page. Shit, Lawton was right. It’d been throwing all his calculations off. He’d just saved him about half an hour of increasing frustration and maybe a couple of torn pages.

Scribbling out the error, Rick absently said “Thanks, man,” forgetting that he was supposed to be rude. Looking back on the moment later, Rick kept getting stuck on the way that instead of crowing about Rick’s thanks, or lording it over him, Lawton merely inched a tiny bit closer and tapped on another part of the diagram.

“Also, it’s the CAST rule, not the CATS rule. Sorry to ruin your fun.”

“Shit,” Rick muttered, and crossed that out too. He barely noticed how Lawton slid into the seat beside him with an uncharacteristically hesitant glance at Rick’s face. Instead, he just shuffled along to make room, and swore again as Floyd mentioned that angles anticlockwise from the original angle were positive, not negative.

He may not have noticed, but June definitely did. She may or may not have surreptitiously whipped out her phone (not that the boys would’ve noticed anyway) to suggest a betting pool with Harley and Katana.

June snuck a look at the way Lawton kept looking at the furrow between Rick’s eyebrows with a dopey fond smile. She placed The Question three weeks away at the most.

Actually, it was two.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [My tumblr](http://softjohn.tumblr.com/) \- hit me up and scream about flagshot, yo
> 
> With every comment I get on this fanfiction, I become closer to forgetting the horror of the unit circle. Please leave one to relieve me of that tragic experience....


End file.
